Life After He Left
by taste for suicidal
Summary: Asking the dead for answers might actually help...


A/N: Hi guys! Sorry I haven't written in awhile, but I can only write well when I'm really high on hormones. Tell me if this is good or bad, but no fucking three paragraph reviews. Those are like, my pet peeve. And no getting mad at me for not updating my other stories! Okay, if the story is being told in first person, it's Hermione at Draco's grave. If it's third person, it's, well, third person.

Later Note: I re-posted the story cause the system went funky when I posted it and I don't think it sent out author alerts. If it did, I don't give a damn.

_Draco Malfoy._

_1980-2000_

_We will miss you_

I hate coming here and seeing you like this. You deserve so much more than "we will miss you". But who is we? As far as I know, I'm the only one that still cares. Your father never loved you. He thought you were worth nothing. Maybe he was right. Maybe you are nothing. You didn't have the courage to stick around to see your 21st birthday. Why did you leave me?

Oh, I remember now. To redeem yourself. To save Harry. Well Harry is safe, safe and depressed. Safe and depressed and my husband. That's right, I'm married now. I don't love him though. He lost Ginny, I lost you, we comforted each other, went out and got drunk once, and BOOM! I was pregnant. I don't want to be married to him, but what would you say?

Well if you were still alive, I wouldn't be in this situation. But you had to go and be Mr. High and Mighty. It did nothing for your reputation. Everyone has either forgotten or hates you. Voldemort still hasn't been defeated. If you were still alive, you could have defeated him.

Be happy to know that I come here every Sunday and cry over you. Cry over you and what you've made me. I love you and miss you, but everything that is wrong with my life is your fault.

Harry and my son James come too, but he comes to cry for Ginny. James just sits in the car waiting, wondering why we're here so often.

I wish I could stay here talking to you forever. Harry has made it a habit of going out for drinks every Sunday night. He comes home and takes all his anger out on me. Usually it's just screaming, but occasionally he'll hit me. He apologizes afterward, but that's your fault too.

I wonder sometimes what life would be like if you were still here. For one, I wouldn't be so lonely. Two, I would probably be a powerful witch that could influence change in the wizarding world. With someone like you there to support me, I bet I could do anything. But I'm not, I'm a waitress at a muggle restaurant. Don't ask how it ended up that way, we just needed more money. Three, I'd probably still know the Weasleys and all my other friends in the magical world. Harry doesn't like to go back to that world for anything. He's ashamed that he wasn't able to defeat Voldemort last time.

Then I remember that night we were in the Astronomy Tower together, about a month after we started dating. We already knew we were meant to be a couple. You told me you'd stay with me through thick and thin. Do you recall that? Well what a great job you've done.

I had plans, you know. You were in all of them since fifth year. I wanted to be Mrs. Malfoy. I wanted to come home after a successful day at work and know that you would be there waiting for me. Those dreams have faded, whispering their regrets, but saying that they need something more to become real. That's where you're supposed to come in.

I hate you, I really do.

You said you dreamt of being something more. Was I just not good enough? I trusted you to take care of us and I gave you my heart, and then you throw it all away to jump in front of a curse and save Harry? When you were in the hospital, they said you had a 30 chance of surviving. To this day, no one knows what you got hit with. But still, you had a 30 chance, and you didn't even try. You died in my arms, while I was talking to you, three days after they put you in St. Mungo's.

Maybe you just wanted to be anything but what you were. Congratulations, you're dead and in a box until judgment day. I hope you're happy wherever you are.

Hermione walked away from Draco's grave solemnly and got in her car. A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she wouldn't let James see her cry. Everything she did for the rest of her life was only for him.

That night was one of Harry's worst. He stumbled through the door, beer bottle in hand. Harry was never like this in real life, but alcohol seemed to show his Mr. Hyde side.

"Hermney," he slurred.

"What?" she asked shortly.

"Don' you speak to me like tha' you ungrayeful, pathetic bitch. I'm the one who works in this house. You'll speak to me as I wannna to be spoken to."

"Oh, Harry Potter, don't go telling me I don't work."

"You don' work Hermney."

"And you're so much better than me," she said sarcastically.

Harry's eyes flared with fury as he pinned her against the wall.

"I am better than you."

"Is that so, Harry? Who got the better grades at Hogwarts? Who always bailed you out at the last second?"

"Shud up."

"Oh yeah, who isn't running away from the wizarding world? God, I hate you, Harry."

She didn't really hate him, she just hated to be with him.

But that didn't matter. It took him two seconds to throw her down on the floor. Then he pulled her shirt collar, making her sit up. He pulled back his fist.

"I'm better than everyone. I am."

Maybe she didn't even hate being with him, just being with him when he was mixed with beer and depression.

His fist hit her cheek and sent her sprawling back onto the floor. He did it again and again, until she could barely open her eyes.

She managed to, however, and was devastated by what she saw. There stood James, crying, in his pajamas and holding his teddy bear. Harry saw him too, but didn't seem to care. All he wanted was another beer.

Hermione summoned all her strength and stood up, practically dragging herself to her room and lying down in her bed. After about an hour, she cried herself to sleep.

Harry woke up the next day with a major hangover, but suddenly recalled hitting Hermione the night before. He walked towards her room and knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Still no answer.

He opened the door all the way and looked around. It was a mess. There were clothes strewn everywhere, but no sign of Hermione.

He went to James' room. Same scene, clothes everywhere but no sign of James.

Where were they?

His question was answered when he walked outside. The car was gone. They had run away.

I'm back. You weren't expecting me, were you? Well, Harry finally took me over the edge. I took James and we're leaving. I was thinking of going to the Weasleys'. Although, I wouldn't bring back very happy memories, what with Ron and Ginny both gone. They'll forgive me, right? For not keeping in touch, that is.

Well, wherever I end up, I don't plan on speaking to Harry anytime soon, and I'll probably be in the wizarding world.

That means I won't be able to visit much, if ever again. Just know that I don't really hate you. This could be the start of the rest of my life. And I love you for it.

I will always love you, Draco.

A/N: If it isn't good at all, just tell me and I'll revise it. I can either put in more chapters, write a sequel (have this be the prequel), or just leave it at this. Totally open to suggestions here.

P.S. If you really hate it, find a way to say it nicely.


End file.
